I’ve spent another week here at Vanderbilt, studying antimicrobial peptides from frogs and their effects on different microbes. A lot of biology lab work involves measuring out liquids, moving liquids between tubes, mixing them, heating them to particular temperatures for particular lengths of time, etc. You can’t actually see your tiny objects of study, so conducting very different types of research can look superficially the same. I’m used to working with DNA and enzymes, biological molecules that are too small to see even with a microscope, and in practice it just looks like I study small plastic tubes containing clear liquid. Similarly, the microbes I’m studying here can’t be seen with my naked eyes, so it’s just liquids in tubes all over again.

However, the volume of the liquids is different. In molecular biology, almost all of your time is spent manipulating volumes between a microliter (a cubic millimeter) and a milliliter (a cubic centimeter). Working with DNA, I never use a pipette tip that can hold more than a milliliter. Working with cells, though, I often measure out tens of milliliters. It’s because cells are so enormous compared to molecules; a microliter can easily hold billions of molecules, but to store billions of cells, you usually need many milliliters. And since cells actually can be seen under the microscope, that adds a whole new activity to my routine.

This got me thinking about biological scale in practice. Not the size of proteins versus cells versus organisms, but the scale at which scientists actually work when they study different levels of biology. Here’s a list of your basic options for the scale of your work:

(<0.001 meter)³: Nanobiology (individual molecules). You can’t easily manipulate a volume of less than a microliter with your hands, so studying biology at this scale (for example, dotting a miniscule volume of a gene or peptide onto a chip) requires complex robotic equipment.

(0.001-0.01 meter)³: Molecular biology (populations of molecules). The scale at which I am most comfortable. Equipment: small tubes and small plastic pipette tips holding clear liquids.

(0.01-0.1 meter)³: Cellular biology. From bacterial populations to blood samples. Equipment: large tubes and large glass pipettes holding frequently colorful and/or aromatic liquids, as well as microscopes.

(0.1-1 meter)³: Multicellular anatomy and physiology. Looking at the whole animal or plant, be it alive or be it dead, or major organs of large organisms (your brain is bigger than a liter, for example). Equipment: dissecting knives and stethoscopes.

(1-10 meter)³: Multicellular behavioral and population biology. Give the organism some space and see what it does, or set a few of them loose and watch them multiply. Equipment: a room with a video camera.

(10-100 meter)³: Ecology. Many species interacting with each other and the abiotic environment in a particular habitat. Equipment: boots, buckets, nets, shovels.

(>100 meter)³: Macroecology. Broad sweeping trends over vast tracts of the Earth’s surface, from the stratosphere to the deepest ocean depths. I suspect many macroecologists sit at computers and look at GIS and other data, so this only refers to those who actually go outside and travel from one study site to another. Equipment: a car or airplane.

Of course, this list is an oversimplification, and lots of biology takes place at multiple levels. In fact, one reason why I like population genetics so much is because you get to collect samples in the field on a macro scale, and then work with them in the lab on a micro scale. It’s also why I like biology in general more than other sciences: only biological systems are complex enough to have so much to study on so many levels of scale.

While the angels, all pallid and wan, / Uprising, unveiling, affirm / That the play is the tragedy, “Man,” / And its hero, the Conqueror Worm.
-Edgar Allan Poe

In the lay-evolutionist’s mind, the phylogenetic tree of life is often confused with the idea of a “great chain of being:” that living things occur in a series from “least evolved” to “most evolved,” with bacteria at the bottom and humans at the top. The chain of being is further mixed up with the food chain, such that “primitive” species are lower on the food chain, and “advanced” species are higher up the food chain, with humans again on the top. In reality, however, evolutionary relationships form a branching tree pattern, with all extant species on the tips of the terminal twigs, although some lineages have changed morphologically over time more than others, and humans are arguably the most different from the ancient common ancestor to all life. But what about this food chain business? The food chain and the tree of life are different metaphors explaining different relationship patterns, one ecological and the other evolutionary. But are they connected? Within the tree, are species that are more closely related to humans higher on the food chain?

In general, the truth of this trend is obvious; after all, most instances of heterotrophy involve animals eating plants. Similarly, think of all the examples of vertebrates eating invertebrates, amniotic vertebrates eating non-amniotic vertebrates, and humans eating other mammals. All of these acts of carnivory happen much more often than the reverse arrangement. But there are exceptions. Some plants eat animals; dragonfly nymphs eat tadpoles; spiders eat birds; squids eat fish; cane toads eat mice; and certain sharks and crocodiles will eat just about any mammal they can swallow, including humans. And even though ecologists like to separate decomposers and pathogens from herbivores and carnivores, that doesn’t change the fact that we will all eventually be “eaten” by tiny brainless microbes.

For some reason, the thought of a “primitive” creature eating a more “advanced” one appeals to me. It helps explode the myth that there is a consistent chain of command starting with humans and spreading to more distant and lowly portions of the tree. It makes the world appear less one-sided; when a Venus fly trap snaps up its prey, it seems to be striking a blow for justice against the near-totalitarian assault on plants by herbivorous insects. As a vegetarian, I am happy to occupy a lower trophic level than many other animals, and I like evidence that humans are not necessarily meant to be at the top of the food chain. Mostly, though, it humbles our species, and goodness knows we need it. While we claim to rule the world, who was just bitten by a mosquito?

Let’s imagine that the sum of what we humans know about the living world is a sphere—like a lustrous, red balloon. The surface area of the sphere is proportional to the amount of knowledge we have. I should point out that I am not the first person to make this analogy (was it Carl Sagan?)—I am just twisting it for my own sinister purposes. Anyways, the sphere started off very small, back in the day when we were chucking rocks at each other and spearing woolly rhinoceroses for supper. Whenever someone figured out some key truth about the biological realm and that truth was disseminated amongst the rest of humanity, the sphere expanded, as though the discoverer had blown a puff of air into the sphere/balloon. Every little discovery puffs up the balloon too, but to a lesser extent.

With the rise of the industrial revolution and communications technology, the balloon expanded hella fast—puff, puff, puff. I would say that after about 1600 C.E., when the Scientific Revolution began, the world’s first real biologists were causing the balloon to expand rapidly. Then along came Darwin. Darwin’s theory of evolution by natural selection damn near caused the balloon to pop. Since every bedbug, wombat, slime mold, marmoset, spirochete, and tunicate—every living organism—is the product of evolution, all of biological knowledge is unified by the theory of evolution. Darwin’s was the single most voluminous lungfull of breath that has expanded the balloon of biological knowledge. That’s what I say, anyway, and this is my imaginary balloon so I can say what I want.

The space outside the balloon represents the great and mysterious realm of what we do not know about biology. It’s dark and spooky out there in the void. So check this out: as the balloon gets bigger, as we understand more and more, the balloon’s surface area comes into contact with more and more of the unknown. So the more we know, the more we know that there is so much more that we don’t know. Get it? If you consider the formula for the surface area of a sphere, where surface area = 4πr^2, you can see that as the radius of the sphere doubles, the surface area actually increases by a factor of 4! The more we know, the more we know that we don’t know. This may not be how it really works, however. The realm of what is unknown may not be infinite, at least when we are talking about biology. Who really knows how much we don’t know?

Another part of this balloon model, if I can call it that, is that there may be a real limit to what humans can know about the living world. Even if there is a whole lot more to learn out there, the finite computational power of our little chimp brains and the limitations imposed on our technology by the laws of physics may prevent us from puffing up the balloon forever and ever. Perhaps the rate of the balloon’s expansion has begun to slow, because we are nearing the limit of our ability to make major scientific leaps and bounds. Can there ever be a new discovery as monumental as Darwin’s?

Something amazing has happened in the last few decades, however, that has certainly quickened the balloon’s expansion. With the rise of a relatively globalized scientific community and the gol-danged Internet, we are puffing right along. Now biologists from Japan can communicate in real time with biologists in Mexico via email, Skype, etc. We have instant online access to journal articles, genetic databases, museum records, satellite data, etc. There is SO much information and we can all share it with one another RIGHT NOW! Darwin had to send stupid ol’ paper letters to his colleagues and wait weeks or maybe months for responses. Crazy! Through the Internet, we are becoming like individual neurons in a giant, pulsating hive mind. Science is advancing in wholly new ways and who knows where we will go from here. Thankfully, the balloon will keep expanding into the foreseeable future (until the aliens, robots, or viruses kick our asses back to the stone age, that is). Hooray for technology!

The most informative and useful delineation between those pursuits understood as scientific, such as astronomy, and those of the pseudo-sciences, such as astrology, is that science integrates positive and negative feedback loops. These feedback loops are based on critical analysis, empirical testing, and reformulation of falsifiable statements. This process serves to maximize the accumulation of accurate statements and minimize the accumulation of erroneous statements within an integrated system of statements which describe the physical universe. In other words, the primary function of science, and the thing that makes it different from pseudo-science, is constructive self-criticism. Karl Popper, in his essay “Science: Conjectures and Refutations” (1963), claims that, “…the criterion of the scientific status of a theory is its falsifiability, or refutability, or testability.” (p. 11). While I agree with Popper that testability is a necessary criterion for a theory to be considered scientific, I do not believe that testability represents sufficient criteria. What distinguishes science from other pursuits is how this testability serves the central function of science through positive and negative feedback.

While Popper does recognize the importance of the function of feedback in science, he does not include this in his criteria for separating science from pseudo-science. As pointed out in Thomas Kuhn’s essay, “Logic of Discovery or Psychology of Research?” (1970), Popper’s demarcation criteria do not effectively separate scientific statements from non-scientific ones. Kuhn argues that the pseudo-scientific statements made by practitioners of “crafts” or “arts” such as astrology are often, in fact, falsifiable, refutable, and testable (p. 17) and yet, few would argue that astrology is a valid science. Kuhn then goes on to support his own criteria of demarcation. He asserts that astrology is not a science because it is not based on a “puzzle-solving tradition,” and “…without puzzles, able first to challenge and then to attest to the ingenuity of the individual practitioner, astrology could not have become a science even if the stars had, in fact, controlled human destiny.” (p. 18). While Kuhn’s ultimate conclusions are questionable, his criticism is valid. How can falsifiabilty be the criterion separating scientific statements from pseudo-scientific statements, when statements made by astrologers are clearly often falsifiable, and often, in fact, falsified?

I propose, and I think “Sir Karl” would agree, that what makes astrology fundamentally different from science is that the results of falsifiable tests of the statements based on the astrological system do not feedback to inform reevaluation and reformation of the original statements or of the system on which they were based. In other words, Karl Popper’s demarcation criteria, that “…statements or systems of statements, in order to be ranked as scientific, must be capable of conflicting with possible or conceivable, observations,” (p. 12) is a necessary condition of science, but is not, in and of itself, a sufficient demarcation between science and pseudo-science. It becomes sufficient, however, when you add the requirement of feedback… If such statements are tested and found to conflict with verifiable, observable and repeatable empirical evidence, the statements or the premises upon which the statements were made must be reexamined and reformulated.

In presenting his criterion of falsifiabilty, Popper implies, and I agree, that falsification of statements based on negative evidence is the only unequivocal means of creating feedback for the reformulation of scientific statements. What Popper fails to address satisfactorily, is how, in the absence of such negative, unequivocal evidence, a scientific statement becomes accepted. While he mentions briefly that, “Confirming evidence should not count except when it is the result of a genuine test of the theory…” (his emphasis, p. 11), I believe that he glosses over the concept of confirming evidence as having a place in the scientific process, and more importantly, having a role in the determination of what is, and what is not scientific knowledge. He does not address how this form of “corroborating evidence” informs the body of scientific knowledge and contributes to the formation of new scientific statements for future testing. This is an important issue because it is often the totality of such statements that represents the current state of scientific knowledge, and serves the utilitarian and applied functions of science. Thus the feedback aspect of the scientific process must include both negative feedback, in the form of falsification of statements, as well as positive feedback, in the form of corroborative evidence. The dynamic nature of scientific growth and change is dependent on the integration and interaction of these two feedback loops, and to ignore them, or leave them out of the definition of what science is, and what it is not, is to present an incomplete picture.

Just as the frequency of deleterious genetic mutations may be reduced in a gene pool by the processes of natural selection, the frequency of erroneous statements is reduced within the dynamic hierarchical network of scientific knowledge by the processes of critical analysis, testing, and error ramification. It is important to recognize that erroneous statements in science, just like deleterious genes in populations, will always exist, and some may be impossible to eliminate entirely. However, the process of science, unlike the activities of the pseudo-sciences, serves to provide sufficient selective pressure, in the form of critical analysis, empirical testing, and the positive and negative feedback of results of such testing and analysis, to minimize erroneous statements, and to maximize accurate statements. In this way, science, above all other approaches, represents an effective means to increase the accuracy of our knowledge of the physical universe.

How genetically diverse is the human species? How genetically different are we from other species? You might think that scientists could spit out simple, single-number answers to these questions. However, measuring genetic variation and divergence is not as straightforward as it might seem.

To assess the genetic difference between two individuals, you could just align related DNA sequences from their two genomes, and calculate the percentage of nucleotide letters that differ between them. This is analogous to aligning two English phrases:

“Mary had a little lamb. Its fleece was white as snow. And everywhere that Mary went, the lamb was sure to go.”
“Mary had a little lamb. Its fleece was white as snot. And everywhere that Mary went, the lamb was sure to go.”

The above two phrases are 99% identical, due to a single typo (mutation). So, you might conclude that the books (genomes) in which you found these phrases are also 99% identical. But in reality, genomes don’t align so nicely. Chunks of DNA get copied and deleted pretty often, so you might find something like this:

“Mary had a little lamb. Its fleece was white as snow. And everywhere that Mary went, the lamb was sure to go.”
“Mary had a little lamb. Its fleece was white as snow. And everywhere that Mary went, the lamb had a little lamb was sure to go.”

These phrases also differ by single “mutation,” but this time it’s a copy-and-paste mutation, so the phrases are only about 92% identical.

Since “copy-and-paste” mutations can cause bigger changes than “typo” mutations, they are responsible for more genetic variation and divergence. According to a paper that just came out in the journal Nature, 12% of the human genome is variable in terms of the number of copies of DNA sections. In contrast, less than 1% of the genome is variable in terms of “typo” differences (called single nucleotide polymorphisms, or SNPs). So most of the genetic variation in our species is due to copy number, and it would be misleading to use the percentage of nucleotide letters that differ among sequences as an absolute measure of diversity. Similarly, you may have heard the oft-repeated factoid that humans and chimps are only 1% genetically different. This is true if you’re just talking about typos, but in terms of copying-and-pasting the difference is substantially greater. Many of the important adaptive phenotypic differences within and between species are probably due to differences in the copy number of chromosomal regions. Aligning related sequences and looking for typos is easy, but that method might miss most of the variation.

A few weeks ago, I encountered four young raccoons while walking through campus at night. They all quickly scuttled up the same tree, but not very far, and they proceeded to all peer around one side of the trunk or the other, eyeing me curiously. I remained, and soon they cautiously descended and continued their adorable exploration of the grounds with their paws and noses. The sound of a distant car engine would send them all a few feet back up the trunk, but then they would come back down again, always watching me, appearing to be torn between fear and a deep wonder of who I was.

Appearing to be. Appearing to be experiencing life as fluffy raccoons, staring at a strange pale primate, feeling mixed emotions. But is there really anybody home in those little raccoon brains? Are raccoons actually conscious of their existence, actually awake and aware? Or are their brains just complex machines, controlling behavior by integrating sensory input and instinct, without any sentient perception of themselves and the world? Some philosophers, notably Descartes, have argued that non-humans animals have no consciousness. Others have observed the sophisticated behaviors and problem-solving abilities of pets or wildlife, and concluded that we are not the only species that is aware, that can feel pleasure and pain.

What baffles me it that we have yet to make any significant progress on this issue. After countless studies of animal behavior, neurobiology, psychology, and artificial intelligence, we still have no idea what consciousness actually is, how it arises, or how we could test for it. Maybe consciousness just somehow emerges once you build a big enough brain, or maybe it’s something else entirely, and not directly related to most of the tasks the brain performs. It does not seem like it can be reduced into simpler parts; you’re either awake inside or you’re not. If anything, science has shown us only that we know less than we thought we did, by demonstrating that intelligence is not highly correlated with consciousness. For example, we have created machines like my calculator, which I am pretty sure is not sentient, that clearly possess a type of intelligence, and that can perform many tasks more quickly or accurately than I ever could. So, the fact that a raccoon is intelligent, and can figure out how to break into a locked garbage can, says nothing about its consciousness. Thus, we have no objective way to detect consciousness; tests of intelligence are not enough.

Taking this train of thought to its logical conclusion, how do I know that any other humans besides myself are self-aware? Maybe you’re all just walking zombies with detailed software running thought your brains, sensing the world but asleep inside. Obviously, I don’t know this for sure, and I just have to go with a leap of faith, along with the inconclusive reasoning that your looks and actions are similar to mine, so your mind is probably like mine, too. Likewise, my gut tells me that raccoons have consciousness, also. As a scientist, though, this is profoundly unsatisfying. Where’s the hard data? I want to objectively determine which species have awareness. Just a handful, like chimps and dogs and dolphins? All mammals? What about birds, or other vertebrates? Any invertebrates? How could we figure this out? What kind of data could there even be that would be convincing?

One trick that evolutionary biologists use to figure out which species share a certain trait is to parsimoniously trace character evolution along an evolutionary tree. If we assume that consciousness is a complex trait that is unlikely to be gained or lost very often, then it probably existed in the most recent common ancestor of all living species that have it. So, if both humans and dogs are self-aware, then our most recent common ancestor was self-aware, and therefore so are all other species descended from that ancestor, including raccoons, whales, bats, and even the cows and pigs that many people eat. Of course, consciousness might have evolved independently multiple times, or be lost occasionally, and this method still doesn’t solve the problem of figuring out who else is conscious in the first place.

Our ignorance is frustrating, because consciousness is arguably the most important thing in the world. If nothing in the universe were able to feel joy or perceive beauty, then the universe has would have meaning. Value exists only because beings exist who can value their existence. We know almost nothing about this most important thing in the world. Furthermore, the ethical implications are staggering, since beings with self-awareness have intrinsic value, while those without it have only extrinsic value. We should have a master list of exactly which species can sense pleasure and pain, with all of the moral consequences that carries, but no such list exists. We can make some general presumptions, like that the presence of nerves might be associated with the ability to sense, but we have little justification for this. After all, you could easily make a robot with artificial nerves that senses and reacts to “pain,” but such behavior doesn’t mean it’s really feeling anything. On the other hand, as biotechnology and computer technology increase, we might actually create an artificial consciousness. We might have already. How would we know?

I remain cautiously optimistic for scientific progress on this question, perhaps torn between fear and curiosity just like the raccoons. In the meantime, I can only be thankful for the opportunity to be a conscious being in the world, to feel the cool damp air around me and smirk at the cute antics of four raccoons… and perhaps I will err on the side of caution and not abuse beings which potentially can sense the abuse. Consciousness is very real, yet just as mysterious and awe-inspiring as any concept from mythology or old-time religion. I do not know who my fellow participants on this blessed adventure might be, but if you are awake in there, let us celebrate this gift and have faith that we are in this together.

Like most biologists, I spend a good deal of time thinking about conservation. There is a stereotype, to a certain extent, that “environmentalists” are all doom and gloom. If I were to conform to such stereotypic constraints I would probably be curled up in the fetal position on my living room floor too depressed to even move. And while that may be an indication of a good Saturday night to most undergraduates, it is not how I want to spend the majority my life. I therefore try to put the depressing facts aside and think about conservation as constructively as possible. What, you may be wondering, is there to think about besides trying to save the Panda or the Whales or the “______” (insert your charismatic megafaunal representative of choice)? Plenty. One issue that I have been thinking a lot about lately is what the best land usage strategy is to meet the broadest array of conservation goals. In order to best demonstrate my thoughts, I would now like for you to join me on a journey into the realm of the hypothetical (An activity that I often engage in to the dismay of my fiancée).

Imagine that you are the president of the U.S.A. Do not imagine that you are George W. Bush (A scary thought for some of us), but rather that you yourself have been elected president. It is the third year of your term and you have little to do. The senate has approved two bills and would like for you to ratify one and veto the other (I realize that I may have just alienated any fans of political science – but remember, this is hypothetical). Bill A proposes to create a network of small to medium sized reserves that, for the most part, are connected with one another and span the entire continent. A portion of the reserves will be open for recreational use, while others will not. More specifically, 1 out of every 10 reserves will be open for use. Usage will be monitored and regulated, with decisions to open or close areas to be made by managers. Additionally, the density of the reserves will be dictated by biodiversity. Lastly, any area that has a highly endangered plant or animal will be made into a small to medium size reserve and sites for future development must be surveyed for the presence of such organisms. Additionally, all current parks, reserves etc. will continue to be managed as they were historically.

The second bill lying upon your perfectly polished mahogany desk is quite different. This bill (bill B) proposes to create huge reserves throughout the continent. For example, 50% of the everglades would be protected, 60% of Hawaii would be protected, and 150,000 square miles of prairie would be restored. Each unique ecosystem would be required to have a reserve. Of course, a panel would have to convene to decide upon the precise definition of an ecosystem. These reserves, however, are quite different from the ones proposed in bill A. Roads will not be built through them and people will only have access to 1/10 of the reserve. Managers will decide where on the reserve people will have access to (with the option to rotate access areas if they decide). Additionally, these very large reserves will not be intentionally connected. Like the other bill, all current parks, reserves etc. will continue to be managed as they were historically and there will be no restrictions on setting up other such parks and “reserves” as we have in use today. Note that the same percentage of land (say 35% of total area) will be protected by both bills, and the same total area open to people will be the same. The main decision you need to make is large, few, and unconnected versus small, many and interconnected

The main point of this hypothetical exercise is to get feedback about land use and how it should occur. In bill A, would development spread out across a wide area around the numerous interconnected reserves? Would new cities and towns appear across the landscape? How would bill B dictate development? Which of these two bills would you choose and why? Which of these two bills would be better for conservation? Which would be better for people and the economy? Would a compromise between the two bills be better? Would people’s actions make a difference? Would the different bills inspire different conservation ethics? You’re the president. Let the people know your decision (i.e., post a comment).

Francis Collins, the Head of the Human Genome Project, has recently written The Language of God, on his experiences as a scientist and an evangelical Christian. I haven’t read the book, but I’ve read his recent interview at Salon.com (via Pharyngula). Collins is not a creationist; he believes in evolution by natural selection over billions of years. Unlike most biologists, though, he also believes in a personal God who performed the miracles described in the New Testament. His complete acceptance of both science and the Bible feels a little odd and contrived to me, but it is a valid position to take. In fact, I’m going to posit that his outspoken stance is a very good thing for the public perception of science.

I do not share Dr. Collins’ theological beliefs, but there is no scientific evidence that can prove them wrong. Unless your religion includes flat-out rejection of sound science, as in the “intelligent design” movement, Dr. Collins is absolutely right that science and religion are compatible. Science remains mute on the issue of whether God exists. Therefore, agnosticism is the only truly rational position, and both atheists and believers are equally irrational in the leaps of faith that they take. Of course, there’s nothing wrong with being irrational sometimes. To live, we must often act on assumptions about which we not are absolutely sure. I just wish both camps would acknowledge their irrationality more often.

Furthermore, the process of science assumes that miracles do not occur, and seeks to explain observations without relying on the supernatural. This is definitely not the same as saying that science has proven that miracles do not occur. I don’t think there is very good evidence for, say, the virgin birth of Jesus, so Dr. Collins is being a little silly for believing in it. But he is not being anti-scientific, unless he starts using the virgin birth as a scientific explanation (for example, if he tries to explain polymorphism on the human Y chromosome by invoking occasional virgin births of males, accompanied by the divine creation of brand new Y’s).

I am not a Christian, and I would be happy to see Christianity fall by the wayside, along with other mythologies that no one actually believes anymore (however, I certainly would not want religion to disappear, and I would hope that humans will continue to embrace the lessons and stories of Christianity, just as we value the teachings of the ancient Greeks without actually believing in Zeus). I suspect Christianity is here to stay, though, at least for a while, so people like Francis Collins are essential for reminding Christians that the words of Darwin and Jesus are not in conflict. The last thing we want is billions of believers who are aggressive towards science, because they perceive it as a threat to their faith.

Can molecular evolution help bridge the gap between professional scientists and everyone else? At first this might sound ridiculous, since molecular evolution is a highly technical scientific field, requiring intimate knowledge of biochemistry, statistics, and a great deal of theory. When I try to discuss my research with non-scientists, I struggle to explain basic concepts like the neutral theory, cladistics, or correcting for multiple substitutions. On the other hand, every scientific field is hard to understand, but curious amateurs frequently tackle complex ideas even without formal education. Because of the vast amount of bioinformatic data freely available on the web, it’s possible to do cutting-edge research in molecular evolution at essentially no cost, if you know what you’re doing. Promoting molecular evolution as a geeky hobby could be good for both scientific progress and public awareness of it.

As I have explained elsewhere, every DNA sequence used in a peer-reviewed publication is deposited in an online database, GenBank. Using a variety of free software, you can analyze these sequences and see how they’re related to each other, what kinds of evolutionary forces have caused them to diverge, and what sorts of functions uncharacterized genes are likely to have. For the most part, this hasn’t already been done; a gene is usually sequenced for a particular reason, and all the other interesting questions you could ask about that sequence are ignored. Who knows what truths might be quietly sitting on the web, waiting to be discovered by someone who puts the pieces together?

Skeptics might groan that sitting at a computer analyzing molecular data sounds far too boring for anyone but the academic elite to ever attempt it. Sure, lots of people are interested in science, argue the skeptics, but they dream about its more romantic, exciting aspects: trekking through the rainforest searching for a cure for cancer, traveling to outer space, tracking a herd of wildebeest by helicopter, creating and testing new explosives, and so on. Most science-based pastimes try to mimic those thrills with hands-on, outdoor activities: model rockets, butterfly collections, chemistry sets, and so on. But… humans display incredible variety in their passions. Many people already spend hours of their free time in front of a monitor, just surfing the web or playing video games. When I was a teenager, if I had had access to a fast computer, millions of DNA sequences, the right analysis software, and a good academic library, I might have spent days playing around with the data. Granted, I was much nerdier than most teenagers, but other folks like me are out there. And it would have two advantages over most science-based hobbies. First, it costs essentially nothing if you already have a computer with an internet connection anyway, and second, if you know what you’re doing you have a good chance of generating publishable results for a real peer-reviewed scientific journal. Not everyone will know what they’re doing, of course, but the possibility of figuring out something really novel is a good motivator, and anyone who tried would certainly learn a lot, even without getting a paper out of the experience.

Fields like astronomy and paleontology have benefited from the contributions of amateurs for years. The more non-professionals we have doing science, the better, because not only does more science get accomplished, but laypersons don’t feel so distanced from the world of academic researchers with all the letters after their names and their government grants. It’s clear that public understanding of science, especially evolutionary biology, is much poorer than it ought to be. Even mistrust and fear of scientists is disturbingly widespread. So next time, instead of World of Warcraft, consider exploring the NCBI site. Show your fundamentalist relatives a phylogeny you’ve reconstructed with neutral sequence data, and ask them to explain why it matches a morphology-based tree. High school teachers should think about giving that bright student an independent project looking for the signature of positive selection on genes, instead of the rote science assignment the rest of the class is working on. I know this isn’t for everybody. But I think there are a few folks out there who would be interested if they only knew about it.

How should Homo sapiens learn to “become at home on the earth?” First, I think it is important to define what exactly one means by becoming at home on the earth. The phrase implies that we as a species are currently not at home on the earth. Metaphorically speaking this is certainly true for the most of us, who consider nature to be something separate from ourselves, something to which we are no longer a part of. Many humans live their daily lives feeling as though we have successfully severed the umbilical chord that joins us with mother earth. And to many people this separation is to be celebrated as a success. Nature is cruel, chaotic, destructive, and something to be afraid of. Too often nature symbolizes suffering and death. This radical dichotomy between us and nature begins to explain why we are not at home on the earth. In fact we do everything possible to fool ourselves into believing that we are separate and superior to nature. We process and package our food in ways that blind us to the natural cycles of birth, growth, and death that brought the food to our shelves. We spend our lives working in buildings that are continually heated or cooled to a constant temperature irrespective of what time of day or season it is. We have complex technologies and medicines that allow us to exceed natural carrying capacities resulting in extremely dense metropolitan areas that flout our separation from and domination over nature. To me, being at home on the earth means that we respect the complexity of life and we realize, with humility, our place in the world. We would have a deep appreciation for all species (including ourselves) and be inspired and guided by the diversity, complexity and drama of nature and its paradoxes. I propose that there are three steps or processes that we must all go through in order to become at home on the earth. The first process is to become aware of nature and wilderness that is all around us. The second process is to incorporate ourselves both spiritually and physically into the biotic community. Lastly, we must strive to effect change in people to live in ecological harmony with our communities, ecosystems and biomes.

The first step to becoming at home on the earth is to become aware of nature. The process of becoming aware of nature involves opening our eyes and other senses to the natural world around us. This task can be, in fact, very difficult to accomplish – and I am forced to recognize that it may even be impossible for some people, who dogmatically refuse to look beyond their “mental lens” through which they view the world. For others, however, this step has already occurred and one only has to make sure that they continue to learn and experience the wonder of nature all around. Most people probably lay somewhere in between these two extremes – distinctly aware that there is something artificial about our lives and that there is something lacking from them – yet unable to realize what is missing. Sadly, too, our culture is currently structured in such a way that we are caught up in a positive feedback cycle of consumerism, materialism and self-worth that tends to lead one away from discovering our place on earth. What then is the path to awareness so that we can begin to become at home on the earth?

Part of the answer lies in the wonder that is omnipresent in nature. Observation and curiosity, perhaps, are the sparks that will lead the proverbial moth to the flame of awareness: How many different arthropods do I share my home with? How many different amphibian species live in my backyard? Why have some birds lost the ability to fly? Why do some of the largest animals on earth eat some of the smallest? Why are some species so colorful while others are not? Simple questions such as these can start a curiosity and fascination with nature. The sense of wonder that arises from answering these questions or even just pondering and imagining answers to such questions places one on the fast track to awareness. Cronon points out that, “The striking power of the wild is the wonder in the face of it requires no act of will, but forces itself upon us – as an expression of the nonhuman world experienced through the lens of our cultural history – as proof that ours is not the only presence in the universe.” Clearly that wonder is not forcing itself upon all of us or else the subject of conservation would be a non-issue, but rather it forces itself upon those who are looking for it. Additionally this wonder is all around regardless of your geographical, financial or cultural background. Nature, after all, is not very hard to find if we only look for it, or as Cronon puts it, nature is “all around us if only we have eyes to see it”. The process of becoming aware, therefore, involves finding our “eyes to see it”. Nature is all around us and it can be observed in numerous ways: In our cities, gardens, parks, and forests; in magazines, books, television shows, and movies; at zoos and aquariums, botanical gardens and museums; even in paintings, artwork, anecdotes and dreams. Perhaps humans are scared to take of their blinders because they will have to acknowledge their own mortality and their insignificance in the grander scheme of life. But for those who are brave or clever or fortunate enough to do so, a greater fulfillment awaits.

The second step involved in becoming at home on the earth involves incorporating our selves into the biotic community. This by no means resembles Val Plumwood’s definition of incorporation whereby “anthropocentric culture treats nature as Other as a refractory foil to the human.” The path to incorporating ourselves into nature requires that we make conscious decisions to be part of the biotic community rather than apart from it. Over time these life-affirming decisions will become more and more automatic and routine, so that the conscious processes involved only serve to remind oneself of purpose and place. Decisions that promote recycling, sustainable resource use, lower gasoline and energy consumption, organic farming and responsible manufacturing will become second nature. At first it can be a difficult process, for it is far easier to embrace forms of cynicism or apathy that require little action or thought. Incorporating oneself into nature, however, does not mean that one need to live an austere or ascetic life. Imagine instead a simpler more fulfilled life where one does not feel the need to buy the newest clothing, electronics, or automobile in order to feel satisfied. Imagine your garden full of native rhododendrons instead of roses, trees and bushes instead of a lawn, nesting birds instead of monoculture, crickets instead of Round-up. Imagine falling asleep on a midsummer’s eve with the window open and the crickets chirping along to a chorus of tree frogs in the background all the while knowing that you are part of this wondrous and comforting (for we are never alone) biotic community.

After becoming aware of the wonders and complexity of nature and incorporating oneself into the biotic community, an individual has an obligation to effect change. This is not to be confused with actions that facilitate incorporation into a biotic community (e.g. recycling, buying organic foods) but rather consists of convincing others of the importance of living sustainably on the planet. This is somewhat different from Leopold’s Land Ethic because it doesn’t describe an ethic between an individual and the land but rather consists of an ethic for one to inform and motivate society to respect the underrepresented members of the biotic community. This process is in no way to be similar to the proselytizing or preaching that is common to certain religions, but rather should be based on objective facts, irrefutable logic and humanitarian ethics. Additionally, respecting and protecting the land need not be a spiritual or religious experience unto itself and Callicott has demonstrated that many religions are amenable to fostering sound biological conservation practices. He states that, “an international environmental ethic firmly grounded in ecology and buttressed by the new physics will complement, rather than clash with, the environmental ethics implicit in the world’s many indigenous traditions of thought.” Irrespective of ones religious or spiritual persuasion convincing someone to become aware, incorporate themselves into the biotic community and convince others to do likewise is no easy task. Yet there is an urgent need for change given the unprecedented environmental degradation that is occurring globally.

Convincing people to change is an extremely difficult task and one that can be frustrating, futile and demoralizing. If it is true that we protect what we love, then currently what most people love is themselves and their progeny, which evolutionarily speaking makes sense. Greed and waste are unconscious forms of protection and survival. Altruistic humans simply don’t live long enough to pass on their genes (and the only documented cases of altruism in nature are among close relatives, e.g. ants, termites). Yet one could be completely selfish and still respect the biotic community. I want clean air, clean food, and clean water for myself. I want to preserve biodiversity so that I can enjoy the myriad of life forms and marvel in their wonder. I want to live in a sustainable and egalitarian world because I would feel better and sleep easier. Perhaps convincing people to change for selfish, albeit not necessarily economic, reasons is one tactic that has not been adequately tried. In the end, though, there are no easy answers except that a dogged persistence is required.

These processes are by no means a panacea for the environmental degradation that is all around us. But if people became continually aware that they are members of a biotic community that is much larger then themselves they might feel more fulfilled and less scared and alone in the world. If people tried to incorporate themselves into the biotic community they may decrease their ecological footprint on the world but they would also find that their moral and ethical shoes were increasing in size. If people tried to effect change in the people around them they may make a difference in one or two people that could forever change humanities fate and role in the biosphere such that we strange and wonderful creatures could finally become at home on the earth.